Week Seven: Perfecting the Nap

Sleeping like an angel in my swaddle. . .
and it's time to wake up for my sandwich! At first, all is well. . .




. . . until I notice that the sandwich lady is snapping pictures rather than
taking care of business!



Apres-snack.



Napping in the car



. . . until I notice the damn sandwich lady snapping away again.



Gimme a break, lady--I'm trying to get some shut-eye here.



And don't give me any lip about it, either.



Fine, one more pose for the camera.



Dozing off in the bouncy. . .



. . . until Tata decides I need a good burping.



Napping is so hard to perfect, but I'm working on it.
I've just gotta break that camera, though.

Livin' tha dream.

Sunday morning fun

Today, I am practicing my facial expressions. Here's my latest--I call it "Le Tigre"



Here is "Sad Panda"






Here's my 'blinded by the 10,000th camera flash look.


And here's my inquisitive look.

Maybe I'm inquiring, 'what're you looking at?'

The Gene Simmons mit milk tongue look . . .


The brown diaper look.



Father's Day Quiz: Who dressed me this morning?
A) Mollie
B) escapee from a psych ward
C) myself
D) Daddy


Who the hell gave me leg warmers anyway, at least they aren't pink I guess.

Happy Father's Day!

Six weeks old!

And I got nothin'


But good looks . . .


Sushi date with pop-pop . . .

We're having a seriousness stare-off.

I like my sake warm like my milk.


I've never seen this woman before in my life!

Just kidding grammy Lecky.

And wish I never saw this one.

Nice fillings.

Oh well, I guess I'm stuck with him. At least I have mom!

Hiccups, part trois.

Dr. Cute

The Dr. is in.

Meaty Beaty Big and Bouncy

Hello again, it's me. Here I am at my dad's office. He shares his office with a huge, stuffed buffalo (which I imagine is a more productive worker). Anyway, he thought it'd be cute to forcibly shove me up against it.


You can tell by my face that I'm underwhelmed by the cuteness of it all.

Then, he enlisted my mom to get in on the fun. She's more gentle but seems to think this is a sacrificial ritual of sorts.


I'm ready for my close up Mr. DeMille.

Actually, I'm thinking about being scarred for life by a giant, stuffed buffalo.

And who doesn't love having an extreme close-up taken of them (on my bad side again).

If I could get up and walk I'd be in Mexico by now.



The horror!

La Vida Loca

Top o' the morning to you. Dad was hitting me up for some lunchtime entertainment but I need's my beauty rest.

Talkin' to da hand


Untitled #1


Houston, we have a problem.


Hand sandwich mit hairy dog.


Me and my friend Harvey.

What rabbit?

Arabic grooving.

I prefer death metal.

Final thoughts.